


Draco's Ticklish Comeuppance

by TheMadKingTargaryen



Series: Ticklish Hijinx at Hogwarts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Fanfic, Feet, M/M, Male - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Stocks, Story, Tickle torture, Ticklish Draco Malfoy, Torture, barefoot, feathers - Freeform, tickle, tickled, ticklish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadKingTargaryen/pseuds/TheMadKingTargaryen
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter's Ticklish Weakness.Harry gets revenge for what Draco put him through in the dungeons. Revenge: a dish best served...hot?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Ticklish Hijinx at Hogwarts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673878
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. A Kidnapping

Shadows shrouded Harry like a thick black cloak, but his appearance didn't match his mood: he was excited, ecstatic, hungry for vengeance. Tucked into an alcove in the seventh floor corridor, Harry patiently followed Draco's footsteps on the Marauders' Map. Not long now.

It was after dinner, so the majority of students would be in their respective common rooms, messing around or studying or any of the other activities the students of Hogwarts felt like doing upon an evening. Draco, in a very characteristic way, was walking alone in the corridors with a destination unknown to Harry. The Gryffindor had picked a spot that he was certain would be passed by Malfoy on his mysterious route through the school.

Harry and Draco's relationship had been...awkward since their encounter in the dungeons. Their usual passionate hatred had been there, of course, but Draco's had been seasoned with a whole heap of smugness and Harry's had been restrained by the unspoken threat that Draco could reveal their embarrassing rendezvous at any moment. Luckily for Harry, Draco had lured himself into a false sense of security: the Slytherin thought that Harry wouldn't attempt revenge for fear of his secret being exposed, but the opposite was true. In Harry's eyes the only way to keep his secret was to do an equally embarrassing thing to Draco. Plus he wanted revenge for his damaged pride; he was a Gryffindor after all.

Eventually he could hear the footsteps as well as see them so he readied his wand and held his breath, smiling gently. His head was full of new jinxes and spells that he had learned that would aid his revenge but currently he had one objective.

"Stupefy!" He whisper-shouted as the blond haired lad walked past, oblivious to his nemesis' presence until it was too late. Harry watched as Draco's train of thought evaporated and was placed with a viscous sense of confusion. It would only last a few minutes so Harry quickly leapt from his alcove and said another spell. "Petrificus Totalus!" Draco's body went rigid before he knew what had happened and he started to tip forward like a logged tree before Harry grabbed him.

He hurriedly fetched his broom and invisibility cloaks from the alcove and tied Draco's solidified body to the bottom of it before hopping onto it with less grace than usual due to Malfoy's broad-shouldered body. Then, after draping the invisibility cloak over the both of them he sped off down the nearly deserted corridors to his carefully chosen destination.

-

Draco had never been frozen before. It was a weird and distinctly uncomfortable feeling, like being trapped in your own mind, looking through the eyes of a statue, with no power over your body. His discomfort was probably worsened by the stun spell that Potter had blasted him with; it felt like his head was filled with concrete, but luckily the sensation was receding fairly rapidly.

The floor blurred past him as he flew on what could only be a broom. He assumed Potter was with him, also, probably sitting up there with a smug expression on his stupid, stupid face. Draco wasn't panicking yet, but he had been taken by surprise by Harry's audacity at stunning him in the corridors. He didn't think the halfblood had it in in. That, Draco supposed, he could admire...if from an annoyed perspective.

Suddenly they were flying up at an angle and stairs were rushing beneath him, within inches of smashing into his face with no way of him stopping them from doing so if Harry made so much as one mistake; perhaps Draco was for once glad of Potter's skill on the broom, however begrudgingly. It was Potter's fucking fault he was on this death trap in the first place. His anger returned as he was reminded of this fact. This was a slight to the great Malfoy family, one as pure and ancient as they came! His father would most certainly be hearing about— no, he wasn't thinking. Of course father wouldn't hear about this. If Draco was sure about one thing of what was about to happen to him it was that it would be embarrassing. Not the sort of news his Father would want to be hearing...

They flew for a few minutes more, then arrived at their destination.


	2. A Brief Encounter

The Astronomy Tower, the tallest of all at Hogwarts, and that was saying something. It jutted into the sky like a great stone Goliath, reaching for the heavens. Harry had chosen it for this precise reason: Filch may have known nearly all of the secret passages around Hogwarts that could make it appear as if he was apparating, but he wasn't the youngest of people, and you had to climb stairs no matter what to get to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Harry, or more likely Draco, could make as much noise as he wanted without fear of attracting attention. Plus the view was gorgeous.

When they reached the top floor of the tower, one down from the roof, Harry untied Draco from the broom and caught him before he slammed into the ground. His frozen body was weird to the touch, as if all his muscles were violently tensed. He was placed against the wall like a mop. Then Harry pushed a table into the centre of the room, brandished his wand and got to work.

-

Draco watched, immobile, as Harry muttered unfamiliar words and his wand glowed with pale blue light. The table before him shuddered and two sets of stocks grew from opposite ends, one with a large hole in the middle, perfect size for —Draco would have gulped if he could— a neck.

"You like my new spells, Malfoy? I learned them in the library when you dumped me there after our last encounter. I had all night to learn some really useful stuff. I can't wait to use them on you. Expelliarmus." Draco's wand flew from his jacket pocket into Harry's hand. He slipped it into his pocket and smirked. Draco wanted to flinch as Harry grabbed his body and carried him over to the table.

"I have to say, Malfoy, I much prefer you when you can't speak." Harry adjusted Draco's stiff limbs into the open stocks, starting with his ankles and then his wrists and neck. With a flick of his wand both sets of stocks slammed shut and their bolts slid together. Draco was then unfrozen and had to suppress a groan as his muscles were released from their prison.

"Potter, you cowardly little mudblood! Let me guess, you're going to tickle me. Very original. Can't even think of his own torture, has to steal ideas from those better than him." Draco tested each of his limbs against the restrictive stocks but they were stuck fast.

Harry paced around the table in a way that made Draco distinctly uncomfortable. "Yes, Malfoy, I did get the idea from you. An eye for an eye and all that. You know what particularly interested me when you had me down in the dungeons? That part when you mentioned just how horribly ticklish you are. I've been thinking about that ever since it happened, yearning to test whether it's true, and now I have you here before me."

"Don't be stupid, Potter, I was saying that to make you feel worse about how ticklish you were." Draco lied, cursing himself. Why had he admitted that to his arch enemy? He'd been too caught up in the moment.

Harry traced a single nail down Draco's clothed ribs and he gasped despite himself. "Well we have plenty of time to discover whether you're lying, Malfoy. It's only nine o'clock. We've got all night."

His nail trailed all the way from his ribs down his belly which he sucked in reflexively, past his crotch, down his thigh, knee, shin, until the stocks blocked its path. The boy who lived was now positioned at Draco's pristine black shoes, or so Draco guessed. He couldn't see past the stocks that had his neck and wrists in a tight little hug. Then he felt what he was dreading: Harry's fingers fumbling with the laces. The shoes loosened around his feet and then slipped off, the cool air of the tower rubbing cozily against the newly exposed socks, thin cotton as per Hogwarts uniform standard. They would offer Draco practically no protection against what he knew was about to happen.

The first finger landed in the centre of his left sole and was soon followed by four others, with his other foot getting the same treatment. They hadn't yet moved these fingers, but even the slight pressure of them on his feet was enough to make Draco's body brace for impact.

"Now, Malfoy, I distinctly remember you having absolutely no mercy when you had me down in those dungeons so I've decided to follow in your lead. By the end of tonight you'll be wishing you never messed with Harry Potter."

If Draco could pride himself on one thing it was maintaining his façade of bravery and tranquility even when he was panicking on the inside. "Oh, Potter. You know nothing about me. Even if I'm a puddle of sweat and tears by the end of tonight, which I won't be, there is no way I would ever regret watching you squirm and scream and cackle at my touch."

He knew from the silence that he'd struck a nerve. The fingers started moving immediately, and not in the random, scribbling way that Draco would have expected. They moved with the coordination of a professional quidditch team, spreading out to cover as much ticklish ground as possible then bunching together to attack specific areas in concentrated efforts. It was like an explosion of sensation. Draco had severely underestimated just how ticklish he was.

Shit.

-

Harry was sure he was doing something right because Malfoy's feet were juddering and writing in the stocks, shying away from his fingers as much as they could, which wasn't much. It was almost cute to see Malfoy in his socks, obviously in some discomfort from the way he was reacting to the sensation. Harry had purposely trimmed his nails so they were blunt and smooth and short enough to be felt but not enough to hurt.

He could hear Malfoy's stifled gasps and giggles at the top of the table, especially when he focused at the heels.

"Ohfuhuhck." Draco whispered to himself, but Harry could hear it and smirked in response. Revenge was already tasting sweet and this was only the beginning.

"Hmmm. You seem quite sensitive to me, Malfoy. And you teased me for being ticklish? The absolute cheek of you." Harry made his tone light and airy to annoy Malfoy even more.  
After a few more minutes of nail scribbling he decided to strip Malfoy of his protection, like he had done to Harry as soon as possible. Harry shuddered at the memory of his bare feet being tickled beyond comprehension and then set his jaw, even more determined to exact his vengeance.

-

Even though he was expecting it, the removal of his socks was a blow to his rapidly dwindling confidence. The cool air now circulated around his pale soles without restriction, emphasising just how exposed Draco now was. Potter walked up to him then, with his black socks in his hands and dangled them above Draco's face.

"I wonder if you need a gag." He brushed the socks against his lips which he clamped shut in defiance. "Or maybe...I've got it!" He tied the two ends of the socks together and slid them over Draco's pale hair and then his deep green eyes. A cruel blindfold.

"Damn you, Potter. Must you be so childish?"

"If it means embarrassing you then yes, I must." He said, imitating Draco's posh accent. The Malfoy scowled but Harry had already gone to the other stocks and was wiggling Draco's newly exposed toes. He flushed red with anger and embarrassment (and...something else?) at the casual display of power. The fingers returned, this time to bare flesh that reacted with vigour to his electric touch.

"F-f-fuhuhuhuhuhuck! Hahahahahahahaha!" This new assault had no trouble in drawing out the laughter from Draco. He guffawed with laughter, rattling in the wooden stocks as his bare feet were tickled without mercy. He cackled for minutes, maybe ten or fifteen, desperately trying to withstand the punishment. Eventually the sensations became too much. He was sweating slightly under the armpits and his body writhed in its limited way. "Pohohohohohotttehehehehehr! Stohohohohop!" Draco caved, too enveloped in the extreme titillation to care that he had appeared weak before his enemy.

Potter lifted his fingers from the soles, finally allowing Draco to relax them and catch his breath back.

"My my, Malfoy. You really are ticklish aren't you? Begging already? We haven't even started!" Draco could hear him pacing gently around the table, and flinched when he thought he sensed him reaching for his upper body. Harry laughed in response. "You're afraid of me?"

"Of course not, you idiot! What do you expect with me tied up here, vulnerable to your every whim? I've got good reflexes." Draco spat.

"Good reflexes..." the next thing Draco knew he was being jabbed in either side by Potter, making him arch his back and gurgle with the suddenness of the action.

"Bleugh!" He shrieked.

Harry pulled away and Draco could hear the smile in his voice. "Not good enough to know I was going to do that."

"Hmmph." Draco puffed.

-

"You're looking quite hot in all of those clothes, Draco. Let's get you out of them." Harry flicked his wand and the layers of jumper, shirt, tie and trousers all unwound violently and slinked off Malfoy's slim body.

-

Cool air rushed over Draco's skin, sending goosebumps rippling across it in response. The minute hairs on his body stood on end, for more that one reason. He was...exposed, vulnerable, naked (well...not really, but close enough) in front of his arch enemy. He was determined to remain dignified and not let the humiliation show, but he was sure his cheeks had flushed red, betraying him.

-

Malfoy pulled at his restrained arms and legs as if trying to cover his exposed flesh, knees and elbows only being allowed to bend slightly. It was pale - almost blindingly so - and smooth but for a smattering of fine blond hairs curling on his chest and in his armpits. For some reason Harry's face had blushed too, albeit less than Malfoy's had, and he was suddenly very glad he had given his captive a blindfold. Malfoy was slim but not skeletal, so there was plenty of ticklish flesh to be massaged and teased. But first...

Harry raised his wand and uttered one of the spells he had gained in the library.

-

Draco could feel the transformation rubbing softly against his skin as his black elasticated pants fluttered and warped into a much smaller pair of briefs— or...panties? He could feel as the material retracted from his upper thighs, leaving just a vaguely 'V' shaped strip of cloth keeping him decent. It felt - Draco shuddered and blushed even deeper red - silky, and he was sure he could feel the slight itch of frills along all of the seams.

He heard another zip as a second spell was cast, one that seemed to strike the ceiling and make it tinkle gently.

Then Harry - no, Potter - stripped his sock blindfold off. The whole ceiling was now a gigantic mirror, so Draco had a full view of the whole room from his restrictive position. There was his body, restrained and humiliated, and there, right in the centre where his crotch was, glinted a bright red pair of frilly, red girl's underpants.

Draco frowned deeply and rolled his eyes, though he was more embarrassed than ever. "Really, Potter? Even for you that's low." Though really he was quite impressed. He wished he'd had the idea to do that to Harry when he'd had the chance. He would love to see the 'boy who lived' in a pair of embarrassing pants. Wait— no, he wouldn't... Scratch that.

Draco blushed even deeper.

"Coming from you, Malfoy, I'll take that as a compliment. Now, that's not the only spell I have up my sleeve. Watch this." And for the first time that whole night Draco actually could watch, thanks to the mirror on the ceiling and his lack of eye covering. Harry— no, Potter walked to the stocks and shot a beam of green light at them. Draco's mouth dropped as small wooden hands began to grow from the wood itself, warping and shifting into shape. Unlike human hands, however, these had long curved talons at the end of each finger that looked like they would tickle like a bitch. He gulped.

-

Harry smiled brightly. "You like them? They're a nifty little trick. And the best part? They do as I say: Hold his toes back."

The hands near the top of the stocks (there were twelve in total, six for each foot) gripped Draco's big and second toes and held them back, pulling his soles taut.

"Argh, you little cheat. They are nifty little things aren't they?" Draco was smiling but Harry was sure he was nervous inside. He knew what Harry was planning and knew he could do nothing about it. "You know, Potter, I'm almost impressed. Are you sure you aren't a Slytherin?"

"I'm very sure. And you're going to be even more impressed at this." Harry leaned exaggeratedly towards the stocks and whistled, as if calling the hands to attention. "—


	3. A Supernova

"—Tickle those feet until their owner says he's sorry."

The words hung in the air, momentarily. Draco's stomach dropped. In the infinitesimal moments before the hands followed their master's order a million thoughts flooded Draco's mind. He didn't mean that, did he? He's joking, isn't he? They weren't actually going to do that, were they? Surely Harry Potter, wonder of Hogwarts, beloved of Dumbledore, king of quidditch and Gryffindor icon couldn't actually do something so cruel...could he?

(He could.)

-

It was cruel, Harry could accept that. Brutal, even. Harry wouldn't dream of doing something so humiliating and pride-shattering to someone...unless they deserved it. Which Draco did. (Malfoy. Not Draco.) Malfoy had done equally unspeakable things to Harry when he'd been tied up in the dungeons. This wasn't an undeserved treatment; this was revenge.

Although, watching the shock, disbelief and then fear pass across Draco's face in the split second before his command was carried out, Harry had to admit, although a sadistic part of him revelled in it, that he felt maybe the smallest, tiniest, smidgiest little bit sorry for Malfoy, half naked in embarrassing pants in front of his arch enemy, about to be tickled out of his mind. It irked him because, even though he knew Malfoy deserved it for what he had put him through, Harry wasn't a cruel person at heart. He wasn't evil. He wasn't Voldemort.

The hands made contact with the smooth flesh, pulled taut by the other hands, and raked their blunt (but still plenty sharp) wooden talons across the nerve-ridden flesh. Four hands per sole. Forty demonic fingers dancing, fiddling, scraping and teasing their way across every inch of Draco's bare feet, from the very bottom of his heel to the toes and the soft skin between them, and every millimetre in between.

Draco screamed with laughter, face forced into a smile so wide and guffawing that he looked like a completely different person to the normally sullen Slytherin.

"NOHOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Draco arched his back but his feet were locked tight, not even able to shifty from side to side. The hands could crawl over every inch and he couldn't even try to fight it. "POHOHOHOHOHOHOHOTTTEHEHEHERRRRRRR! FUHUHUHUHUHCKHAHAHA!"

"Yes? You know what you have to do to get it to stop. Just say you're sorry."

"NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"

"Then there's nothing I can do. Sorry about that." Harry was warmed to know that Draco was being belligerent, even in a situation as dire as this one, because it made him feel slightly less bad about tickling the everloving shit out of him. Speaking of which...

Harry hopped onto Draco's exposed body, straddling himself across his hips— where something he hadn't noticed was pulsing against his trousers. Something in Draco's new pants.

Oh.

Merlin's beard.

Harry ignored it (kinda), dismissing it as a natural reaction to being in such an intimate position. He fluttered his fingers slowly up and down Draco's ribs and he was sure he heard a definite increase in the blonde boy's laughter. He was going to get Dr—Malfoy to apologise no matter what, but he also wanted to hurry him along, partially because he didn't want Malfoy to literally pass out and partially because they had been up here for an hour and a half at least and the longer they spent up here the more likely it was that they would be stumbled upon by some unwitting teacher or worse: Professor Snape.

-

Over the ticklish "noise" created by the hands (those fucking hands!) on his feet Draco could see, and then sense, Potter ruthlessly digging his fingers into his mildly hairy armpits. It was like someone dousing a raging bonfire with kerosene. The combination of nervous assaults made Draco scream with laughter, going bright red in the face. He was so busy laughing that he didn't even realise that Harry had almost certainly noticed the bulge in his pants. It wasn't because of this, of course. It was just...biology. Yes, that was it. Biology.

"RAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAFUCKINGNOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOPLEAHAHAHAHAHAHSEPLEAHAHAHAHSESTOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOPP!"

"Draco— Malfoy, you know what you have to do. Your begging won't stop those hands, your apology will." Harry smirked and Draco had never felt such passionate hatred towards someone like this ever before. It was like a flame in his heart, a raging tempest in his stomach, a tsunami in his mind, unstoppable. He just wanted to grab him and—

And what?

"OHOHOHOHOHOHKAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY!" Draco flipped this over in his mind, thinking it through thoroughly, something he wasn't very apt at in his daily life. On the one hand, apologising would be humiliating, an embarrassment to his name and his honour, Potter would fucking revel in it like a pig in muck and Draco would be the one who ultimately lost in this battle of wills. On the other hand, he would rather be being blasted by the cruciatus curse by the Dark Lord himself than be strapped to this motherfucking table any longer, laughing himself hoarse and sweating like a Hippogriff.

"SOHOHOHOHOHOHRY! IHIHIHI'MSOHOHOHORRY!" The talons lifted from his feet at last and Harry's probing fingers also fled the sensitive nests of his armpits. The relief and pleasure of being able to think straight and breath normally and not flinch and strain and twitch was almost orgasmic.

"See? How hard was that?"

Draco panted like he's just finished a 100m sprint. "Hard. You weren't raised in the Malfoy household. Apologies are non-existent."

-

A slight sting of pity poked at Harry. Draco wasn't evil, either. He wasn't sure when he'd noticed this, but it had been fairly recent. He was at the mercy of his situation, raised by parents who dabbled with the wrong wizards. He was as much of a victim in this as they all were, just in a different, less visible way.

Still straddled across the sweaty lad's hips he gave him a good long while to catch his breath and calm down. Draco didn't even have any scathing remarks or insults to hurl afterwards, he just stayed still, breathing calmly, probably exhausted. Harry sure had been when he'd been in that situation. "Water?" He offered.

Draco nodded and Harry squirted a jet into his mouth from his wand. Draco lapped it up happily.

"We're not done yet, just so you know. This is revenge, after all."

"I expected as much. I'm no innocent flower."

Harry conjured a feather from thin air and leant forward so that he was close to Draco's face. He whipped the soft feather across his bare neck, eliciting light and airy giggles from the bound lad, a large departure from the guttural cackles he had been roaring just minutes before. "Ohohohoho that tickles! Holy snakes! Hahahahaha. I shououould have thought of this for yohohou."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, well. You don't get to take credit for this. The other stuff, maybe, but this was definitely my idea." He swirled like the feather up and dow his neck, side to side, across his Adam's apple and teasing softly around his suprasternal notch. All the while Draco giggled and smiled in a way that was almost...cute? Harry had never seen Draco with anything but a slight scowl on his face, so this expression was disconcerting— not necessarily in a bad way.

"Ohohohohohoahahahaha! Yohohoho know, Harry? I reahahahahly am sohohohory."

Harry's feather paused. "You don't have to fake apologies anymore, Draco. The hands are gone."

"Noho. No. I'm...serious. It was fun and of course I enjoyed it at the time, I mean I was torturing my arch enemy, why wouldn't I enjoy it?" A light blush rose in Draco's cheeks and he wasn't quite looking at Harry, though Harry was most certainly looking at him, scrutinising every inch of his expression for signs or the usual sarcasm. It wasn't there. "But afterwards— Merlin's beard I felt horrible. I may not have liked you but something deep down was aching with guilt and...I honestly had trouble sleeping because of it some nights. I'm serious. So...I'm sorry for doing that to you. In the dungeons. Nobody deserves that. So I'm sorry. Truly."

Harry was shocked into silence.

-

"You don't have to say anything, I just...had to say it. God it feels good to get it off my chest." Draco said, finally looking up at Harry from his restricted position. Harry was looking back at him.

-

And their faces suddenly felt so close together, barely three inches. Harry could feel Draco's warm breath dance along his cheek. Something flared to life within his very soul, something latent, dormant, that had been woken from its slumber.

-

And Draco started deeply into his eyes. He hadn't noticed them before. Blue. Deeper than the oceans. Deeper than...anything he had seen before. It was like falling into a bottomless chasm.

-

And...

-

And then...

-

And then Harry's face got even closer. Accidentally? No. Automatically, not accidentally. Centimetres now. Centimetres apart.

-

And then...

-

And then they...

-

Kissed.

-

And it tasted sweet as honey, cold as ice and hotter than the sun on Harry's lips. It was like a supernova, not just the kiss but the feeling inside of him, like a frustratingly complicated knot inside him had just unravelled.

-

And it felt like Draco had started melting like candle wax near a flame, warm and fuzzy and warm and warm and warm and warm.

-

They kissed deeply, the passion that had been felt for each other for years directed at something other than hatred in one big fiery implosion. Mere seconds ticked by but time had evaporated.

-

Then Draco realised what was happening.

-

And Harry pulled away, a look of shock on his face. Had that really just—

-

—happened? Draco's eyes widened with...with what? It felt like fear and embarrassment and shame all rolled into one and coated with—

-

—confusion. Why/What the fuck had (that) just happened? He pulled away, not making eye contact with Draco. He slipped off the table and straightened his clothes, coughing awkwardly, trying to decipher the last few seconds.

He whipped out his wand and released the stocks. Draco pulled his limbs free, looking as shook as Harry felt.

Harry mindlessly restitched Draco's clothes and he bundled them up, grabbing his shoes and socks and fled from the room with his head down.

"Draco..." Harry said, turning, but he was already gone, leaving an icy vacuum in his wake.

shit.


	4. A Prologue

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

"Ro-o-n?" Harry droned, shaking him from his nap gently.

"Yeeeees?" Ron mimicked, sitting up and clawing his hand through his thick ginger hair.

"I need you to test something for me."

"What kind of thing?"

"Just a thing...It won't hurt, I promise."

"Harry, Fred and George are my brothers. I know not to agree to do something just because it isn't painful. There are plenty of other sensations that are just as negative as pain." Ron said with a dead-pan face that perfect matched his tone.

Harry pleaded shaking his friend by the shoulders. "Pleeeeeease, Ron. You owe me."

"For WHAT?" Ron exclaimed.

"I don't know...I probably saved your life at some point..." Harry said, fluttering his eyelashes and quivering his bottom lip exaggeratedly.

Ron sighed. "You are the worst bloody person I have ever met. What do I need to do?"

"I just need you to take off your socks."

-

"That was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life."

"That bad?"

"Yes, 'that bad'! I've never been tickled so bloody ruthlessly! I nearly wet myself."

"That's perfect!"

"Where did you even learn to conjure those fucking hands?"

"Oh. Nowhere." Harry slinked back over to his bed.

"Promise never to use them against me again!" Ron demanded.

"I won't. Unless you annoy me..."

A pillow struck Harry square in the face.


End file.
